various indeed to behold. As a father's tinkling bell brings the
children together, so the snowdrop bells call forth all the other
flowers. First and foremost comes the primrose, and cowslips--Heaven's
keys as we call them--open the gates to all the other children of the
Spring. "Come forth, come forth!" the returning birds shout from out
the bushes, and silver-grey catkins sprout on every twig. Beech leaves
burst off their sharp, brown sheaths and open to the light, as soft as
taffety and as green as emeralds.

The other trees follow the example, and so teach their boughs to make a
leafy shade against the sun as it mounts higher. Every creature that
loves its kind finds a voice under the blossoming May, and the dumb
forest is full of the call and answer of thankful and gladsome loving
things which have met together, and of sweet tunefulness and songs of
bridal joy.

Round nests have come into being in a thousand secret places--in the
tree-tops, in the thick greenwood of the bushes, in the reeds of the
marsh; ere long young living things are twittering there, the father and
mother-birds call each other, singing to be of good cheer, and taking joy
in caring for their young. At that season of love, of growth, of
unfolding life, meseems, as I walk through the woods, that the loving-
kindness of the Most High is more than ever nigh unto me; for the forest
is as a church, a glorious cathedral at highest festival, all filled with
light and song, and decked in every nook and corner with gay fresh
flowers and leafy garlands.

Then all is suddenly hushed. It is summer.

But in Autumn the forest is a banqueting-hall where men must say